Twisted
by Authenti
Summary: Kururu always thought the word 'friend' had sounded like a stupid idea to him. Saburou felt differently, but that was his own weakness and Pekoponians could do as they liked for all he cared, just so long as they didn't drag him into their stupid affairs.


"Yeah, he's pretty weird. Usually we have to get Mois to help if we want to persuade him to do anything he doesn't want to. He's kind of unapproachable." – He heard Natsumi say this to her brother over dinner once. They were talking about the team in general, but somehow the subject had turned to him.

"You could say… has a depressing aura? I would rather talk to Uncle." That was Mois herself, cutting in on another conversation. About him.

"As much as I hate to admit defeat… there's just no way you can talk to him. He's a very persuasive guy." He heard Keroro explaining this to Giroro, right before the red frog pummelled their idiot leader for being so weak-minded. It was a double-edged sword, though. He knew what Keroro had meant by 'persuasive' – in fact, 'controlling' and 'maniacal' were two other words he would use instead. But, of course, he didn't let it get to him. He never, ever let it get to him.

Kururu would never say he was professional. He wasn't, and he knew it, though he was a genius. But he had next to no respect for his team, and it was ridiculous to think that they might be right.

Anyone else would have been upset, or perhaps depressed, at his team-mates' descriptions of him behind his back. There was that word again. Depression. Mois, of course, said this often; she phrased things as they were, and then reiterated in a different way _just to make sure_ everyone got it the first time around. Whenever they spoke about Kururu, that word kept on cropping up.

What was it? Just because he wasn't bouncing about like the idiot Private Second Class youngster, Tamama? Was that it? So that meant he was automatically depressing, or depressed perhaps.

Kururu gave his signature laugh… but broke off abruptly. Tamama had a lot of friends, didn't he? Well, he was popular. He was volatile, and often the slightest thing could set him off and he'd wreck the place with Tamama Impact… but he was still popular. What had Tamama's long-distance friend said about Kururu once? 'Depressing, poisonous, not popular at all…'

The yellow alien put down the circuit board he'd been working on, resisting the urge to hit something. He could feel his glasses cracking with the mere atmosphere, but there was too much to break in this room. He took a deep breath. It was too hot in here; it was getting uncomfortable.

"Kukukuu… This is too idiotic… Thinking about those fools when I should be working…" _Stop. Stop talking to yourself, this is stupid._

"What are you working on?"

Kururu didn't turn round, and didn't stop typing. He knew that voice too well by now to be surprised.

"Programming another battle robot." He'd originally meant for it to be a patrol robot, to try and keep Mois out of his workspace, but it had kind of evolved past indoor use.

"Looks intensive. Need anything?"

"Don't bother. I have everything I w- need right here." Damn it, damn it, why had he said that? His train of thought was never broken, _ever_, and now Saburou was going to ask-

"What's wrong, Kururu?" Damn it. That tone of voice meant trouble. The lightness in his voice was gone, and Saburou was deadly serious. "Did something go wrong?"

Kururu responded calmly enough. "I have a headache." And that was true, too. He had been feeling slightly off all day, like he was… tired of staring at the computer screen. Not that that was the case, of course, because that never happened. "Don't bother me."

There was a moment of silence, and for that moment, Kururu thought he'd convinced the boy. This was misleading. "I've told you before, Kururu… you're a terrible liar." Saburou grinned and approached quietly, taking a look over the Keronian's shoulder. "You haven't typed anything in about two minutes. Still thinking?"

At once Kururu went to press some keys, but stopped himself and his hands hovered over the keyboard. It was too late to try and fool him. "I was thinking about the Platoon. Now leave before I make you leave."

"It's my house, Kururu," Saburou chuckled lightheartedly and laid a hand on the back of the swivel-chair, turning it swiftly to make Kururu face him, away from his laptop.

For a while, they stared at each other, Saburou with his trademark smile, and Kururu with his typical unreadable poker-face. Seconds dragged by…

"Tch." First to look away was the Keronian, folding his arms and averting his gaze down and to the right. The human's smile immediately faded as Saburou took this as a warning sign, now looking genuinely worried. A bit like the look on Giroro's face when he was used as a test subject for another experiment.

"Kururu-"

"Go," the Keronian grated. "I don't work well when I'm watched. Kukuku…" He waited for almost a full minute, but Saburou didn't move. He didn't intend to move either. If he unfolded his arms, his hands would start shaking. Kururu always found his mind didn't work too great when there was someone like Saburou or Mois watching him like that.

Mois…

"_You could say, super hostile?"_

Each hand tightened its grip around the opposite arm and slid upwards towards his shoulders without Kururu even thinking about it. He was really in trouble now. This headache was getting worse. He should really take something for it.

"_Jeez, aren't there some pills we could give him to shut him up? I don't understand any of the science jargon he's spewing." _This is not helping-

"C'mon, Keroro, let's leave him alone or he'll go mental and use one of his insane inventions on us."

"_What do you think, Tamama? Does he have one of those bad-aura aliens following him around or something?"_

"_I don't know! Let's just leave him for now."_

Headache, headache, his headphones were picking up static and it hurt so much-

Silence. Someone had yanked his hands away from the sides of his head and pulled his headphones away. Silence except for an unfamiliar, choked whine. Was that him making that sound?

"Kururu," someone whispered, "are you okay?"

Kururu felt his headache lessening now that the headphones were gone, though it still hurt like hell and his vision was swimming.

His headphones were gone.

Kururu glanced up, wincing against the suddenly-glaring light streaming in from the door. Saburou was holding them, his furrowed brow betraying his anxiety. "Give me those. _Now._"

A slight pause, and the human shifted his hands behind his back. "…No. Not until you're feeling better. I won't ask what's wrong because I know you won't tell me, but as a penalty you have to rest up for a while." Saburou blinked. No response. Usually he'd have had his head chewed off for telling Kururu what to do… He understood why when Kururu slumped sideways against the arm of the chair, unconscious. "…Right, then. I guess I don't have to tell you twice."

A quick check with the medical scanner Kururu had left on a shelf told him that the Keronian had some form of virus; it wasn't life-threatening, but it was a nuisance.

"Better rest up, Kururu. I don't lose friends to something this trivial."

---

A day later, Kururu woke up alone in Saburou's bed, the room empty apart from him and his headphones and glasses, which were lying on the bedside table. Instinctively he dealt with those first. The static was at its normal, barely-audible level now, which suited him just fine. It was never loud at all, he realised, but in that state his mind had amplified it and made it seem deafening.

There was a note where his personal belongings had been, and he picked it up and read it carefully. Then he read it again, just to make sure he'd gotten it right the first time.

There's food in the fridge, your computer is where you left it, and it looks like you already found your glasses. I'll be at the secret base under the Hinatas' house. I don't know what you caught, but the symptoms looked a lot like the flu. How did you manage that, idiot? Told you I'm smarter.

_P.S. Don't get any sicker. I'm warning you. If I come back and my best friend is dead there'll be hell to pay._

"…Ku…" Best friend, huh. What a stupid, typical Pekoponian thing to say to an invader. "…Kukuku…" Friend. Completely stupid! And irrelevant. Saburou was an idiot to let an invader recover in his house. Invaders invaded things. Totally stupid. "Ku-ku! So that's what you think of me, Saburou! Kukukuku!" Stupid, stupid, stupid-

Friend, though.

That felt like such a warm word. Maybe he was losing his touch. His symbol was twisted for a reason.

Kururu made a mental note never to fall ill again. The consequences would ruin his cold reputation.


End file.
